


layer up

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: The thing about Fujigaya is that flattery will get you everywhere.





	layer up

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (power exchange).

The thing about Fujigaya is that flattery will get you everywhere. All one has to do is stroke his ego and he will be like putty in their hands, to mold and shape at will, even if he resists at first. Particularly someone who has worked with him for over ten years would be very likely to push past his barriers with just a few words of praise, even if they aren’t close at all. _Especially_ if they’re not close.

The thing about Kitayama is that he will go out of his way not to do anything. Effort is worth it if the end result allows him to just lie there and enjoy it. He is also well aware of the aforementioned thing about Fujigaya, so while there is an entire cell phone contact list of other people he could go to—all of whom would be easier and more enthusiastic—the challenge is the entire basis of Fujigaya’s appeal.

“I want you to tie me up,” Kitayama greets Fujigaya at the door, having lured him over with the desperate cry of fashion woes.

Fujigaya narrows his eyes, but Kitayama barricades himself against the door before the other man can turn around and leave. “I should have known you wouldn’t need my layering advice.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you,” Kitayama tells him, careful to stand too close to Fujigaya without actually touching him. He hasn’t been defused enough yet for physical contact. “Besides, I’d rather have you take my clothes _off_ than put more on.”

Fujigaya blinks at that, clearly taken aback by the forwardness, though Kitayama thinks he should have expected that, too. Kitayama doesn’t waste time when it comes to things that are important, which includes sex. “I…that is…Kitayama?”

This is too easy, Kitayama thinks as he watches Fujigaya’s resolve crumble before him. “Hiromitsu,” is all he says, speaking his own name as he steps right up into Fujigaya’s personal space. “Tonight I’m Hiromitsu.”

Fujigaya starts to nod, falling under the spell, but then his eyes harden and he presses both hands against Kitayama’s chest in an attempt to push him back that doesn’t quite follow through.

“Even if I wanted to do this with you, which I don’t,” he sputters out, “tying you up does nothing for me. I like to be touched. A lot.”

“But Taisuke, think about it,” Kitayama purrs up at him, carefully circling Fujigaya’s wrists with his own fingers to establish contact. “I’d be helpless under your hands. Your big, strong hands that I want to feel all over my body, teasing me while I squirm and beg for more. Wouldn’t you like to make me beg for you to touch me?”

Fujigaya inhales sharply, both of his hands clutching the fabric of Kitayama’s shirt like he likes that idea a lot. “Kitayama, what even—”

“I told you what to call me,” Kitayama cuts him off, throwing Fujigaya more out of balance with his stern tone, but just as quickly returns to the soft pleading. “I’d be completely at your mercy, Taisuke. The power is all yours.”

His business education comes in handy sometimes, that last line seeming to win Fujigaya over just like a sales pitch, and that’s how Kitayama ends up on his back on his own bed, shirt twisted around his arms to bind them behind his head because Fujigaya hadn’t stopped kissing him long enough for Kitayama to point him toward the handcuffs.

Fujigaya’s hands are curious on his chest, an afterthought to the rushed way their mouths are sliding together, but Kitayama just arches into the touch and waits patiently. This is exactly what he wanted, to have Fujigaya’s hands on him while his own are immobile, the one thing he can’t recreate by himself.

“Damn, you really like this,” Fujigaya breathes against his lips, which turn up into a smile at the obvious statement. Both of Kitayama’s legs are curled around Fujigaya’s hips, shamelessly pressing up against him with the hardest erection he’s had in years.

“I like _you_ ,” Kitayama gasps out, because right now he does, a lot. It’s the right thing to say, anyway, as it pulls an enticing noise from Fujigaya’s throat before his lips drop to Kitayama’s outstretched neck. “Your mouth feels good, too.”

He feels Fujigaya shudder and it has Kitayama smugger than he should be considering he’s the one tied up. Yet Fujigaya’s the one touching him just like he wants, by his own request, so there’s really no question who’s in charge here, especially when Fujigaya grinds down and Kitayama gasps at how hard he is.

“Hiromitsu,” presses into Kitayama’s sternum, and damn does that sound good in Fujigaya’s breathy voice, deep enough to vibrate his skin. Fujigaya’s fingers are tightening on the flesh of his sides, hair beginning to dampen from sweat, and Kitayama wishes he could run his hands through it, whining a little when his struggles prove useless.

Fujigaya likes that a _lot_ , groaning as he splays his hands on Kitayama’s chest and follows with his mouth. Kitayama throws his head back with a choked moan when Fujigaya sucks on one of his nipples, pleased and impressed with Fujigaya’s initiative when those hands drop to his belt.

“Yes, yes, please,” Kitayama encourages, snapping his hips only a little voluntarily, and Fujigaya lowers himself even more without any hesitation. He mouths his way down Kitayama’s stomach and now Kitayama has to bite back his vocal appreciation. He may have his own place, but walls are still thin.

The click of his belt resounds in his ears as Fujigaya unbuckles it, fumbling a bit from arousal moreso than nerves, and Kitayama nearly punctures his bottom lip when Fujigaya refastens it around the middle of his thighs, effectively binding his legs together. While that was unexpected, it is no way prepares Kitayama to be rolled over onto his stomach and pushed up onto his knees and elbows, both unsteady from their respective restraints.

“Is this okay?” Fujigaya asks. His voice is much gentler than his actions, the contract between his soft words and rough manhandling turning Kitayama on even more. Kitayama’s already nodding before Fujigaya’s draped over his back, lips pressing between his shoulder blades and erection digging into the crack of his ass, the denim of Fujigaya’s jeans scraping along the very sensitive skin.

“Please, Taisuke,” Kitayama begs, using what little leverage he has to push back without falling onto his face. “I want you, just like this.”

Now Fujigaya’s groan vibrates Kitayama’s entire body, leaving him tingling and trembling as Fujigaya’s hands drop to knead the flesh of his ass. “Where’s your lube?”

“In the drawer,” Kitayama answers. “Hurry.”

“Shit,” Fujigaya hisses, followed by some banging around that clues Kitayama in to how worked up Fujigaya really is. “Okay, Hiromitsu, relax. I’ve got you.”

It’s completely different doing this without spreading his legs, the first finger going in while Kitayama’s thighs strain to move. He feels like he could break his belt from his own strength, which only gets worse when Fujigaya presses in another finger and angles them to have him arching and scrambling to muffle his moans with his arms.

One more and Kitayama’s struggling for real now, desperate to move just to _react_ , and damn if it’s not the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. Fujigaya fingers him a little too long, making him cry out impatiently without forming actual words, but nothing compares to the whine Kitayama emits when his touch disappears completely.

“Hold on,” Fujigaya gasps, his voice considerably lower along with the groans that follow from what he’s obviously doing to prepare himself for Kitayama. Kitayama wishes he could see it, regrets not making Fujigaya strip earlier, but then that body is pressed against him from behind, skin to skin, and he feels the head of Fujigaya’s cock between his bound legs.

“Yes, yes, Taisuke, please,” Kitayama exhales, the words just flowing out on their own. “Fuck me, come on.”

Fujigaya gives a sharp thrust forward and his noises are much closer now, his body stretching out on top of Kitayama’s back as he buries himself all the way inside. That mouth latches onto the back of Kitayama’s neck and Kitayama rocks back against him in an unspoken plea to move, which is all he can do with his mobile limitations.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel good,” Fujigaya mumbles into the top of his spine, groaning as he starts to move. “Oh, Hiromitsu. So tight.”

Kitayama’s cognition quickly dwindles with each second of Fujigaya hard inside him, slowly moving in and out before speeding up. Moans sound from the depths of his abdomen as Fujigaya hits him deep, making his fingers and toes tingle from more than just numbness. “More,” he gets out.

Fujigaya gives him more, panting into his skin as he fucks him hard enough to rock the bed, hard enough to knock Kitayama completely off balance and almost send his head crashing into the headboard. Fujigaya catches him just in time, rolling both of them onto their sides without breaking his rhythm. Arms wrap around Kitayama’s chest and pull him close, making it feel even more intimate as Kitayama arches in the hold.

“Touch me,” Kitayama breathes when he can’t take it anymore, turning his head enough to press the words into Fujigaya’s throat. “Jerk me off, make me come. It’ll feel so good, I promise. It’s already so good. I love feeling you inside me like this.”

A half-moan half-whine prefaces the shaky hand drifting around his hip, fingers bumping the impossibly hard length that’s gone untouched this entire time. Kitayama gasps and arches, muscles constricting enough for Fujigaya to let out an incredibly arousing growl and thrust even harder. It only gets more intense when he actually wraps his fingers around Kitayama properly, thumbing the head with each stroke in time with his own rhythm, and Kitayama can’t stop the rush of pleasure that floods him all at once, shoving him to the edge and right over it.

Fujigaya’s right behind him, figuratively and literally, and Kitayama feels every pulse as his own body tenses in orgasm. Afterward, the entire surface of his skin seems to tingle, though Fujigaya’s hands seem to smooth it away with his continued touches of Kitayama’s chest and sides.

“Oh, my god,” Fujigaya speaks first, though he makes no move to get up or even detach himself from Kitayama. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Told you,” Kitayama replies, struggling to catch his breath as Fujigaya scoffs into his hair. “You can untie me now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I won’t return the favor,” Kitayama says simply, and he doesn’t even have to elaborate before Fujigaya’s unraveling the shirt from around Kitayama’s forearms and unfastening the belt around his thighs. The gentleness with which he does it is probably more due to exhaustion than caution, but Kitayama appreciates it nonetheless.

He leans back into Fujigaya’s embrace, neither one too keen on moving, and Kitayama smiles. After ten years of working together, Kitayama knows how to get what he wants from this one, even if what he wants is Fujigaya himself.


End file.
